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Chapter 10 Posted on Tuesday, 26 April 2005
"Hello?" I sniffed down the phone, forgetting my usual "Elizabeth Bennet," that I customarily answer with.
"Lizzy, it's Jane. What on earth is the matter with you? One minute you are dancing with Will, the next, you are running out of the ballroom in tears. What happened? Was it Will that said something to upset you?"
"Whoa, Jane, one at a time. You always do that; ask far too many things at once."
"Stop avoiding my questions, Elizabeth," she answered. It was a shame that when I was upset and felt sick, that I never could muster the strength to be my usual witty and sharp self without others beating me.
"I just felt really ill, Jane. It's the wrong time of the month," I lied.
"Elizabeth, it has been the wrong time of the month for you for the past six weeks. You need to think of a decent excuse."
Urgh, wasn't I ever allowed to live in peace. Did I have to have a reason for everything? Fine, there was a reason. That UTTER B*****D. THAT COMPLETE F****R, WILLAIM F*****G DARCY. Never have I hated one person more in my entire 26 years. I really would not care if he died. At first he just bugged me. Then he really annoyed me. Then I enjoyed laughing at him. NOW I F*****G HATED HIM.
It felt really good to get that out of my system. "Jane, stop worrying about me and go back to your party and have a good time." Like she was going to listen to that. She would not leave until she had got it out of me. I could hear a voice in the background asking who she was talking to. Jane said, "It's Elizabeth."
"Oh," was the response.
"What exactly happened when you were dancing?" Jane asked, very unaware that she wasn't covering her hand over the speaker and also forgetting that due to her partial bad hearing, she put the phone on speaker phone.
"She didn't disclose information that could be important to the result of the trial next Monday."
"What information was that?" Jane asked him.
"That she and Wickham went out for over two years and were seen as in a very, very serious relationship, one that colleagues and friends expected would end only with death."
"What?" Jane was evidently very shocked. "Elizabeth, why didn't you tell Will? You told me that you had."
"Humph," I humphed. "Ask him if he is just jealous and surprised that the PROSTITUTE went out with a CRIMINAL and that I wouldn't give him it for free." I screamed so loudly that I expected the people in the ballroom at the other end of the house heard me.
"ELIZABETH!" Jane yelled
"MS BENNET, will you PLEASE GROW UP!" he shouted at me.
"SHUT UP, DARCY."
"ELIZABETH!" she yelled again.
"SHUT UP JANE!"
"Ms Bennet, if you weren't such a SLUT, I would have expected more than to be rude to the only person in your family who behaves with some sort of decorum and respect."
"WILLIAM!"
That wasn't me! It was Jane, shouting at the B*****d for calling me a slut and taking the mick out of my family, who I was later told behaved stupidly at the party.
"Elizabeth is not a slut; she is intelligent and behaves properly."
"Yes, Jane," he spoke sarcastically, "SO intelligent that she has probably lost the case for us, and also, SO intelligent that she went out with a man who has stolen ridiculous amounts of money and who has been arrested many times for suspected involvement with illegal drugs."
"DARCY, you B*****d. If you have something rude to say, direct it at me, not Jane who is completely innocent and does not deserve to have to deal with your bad humour."
"FINE. Ms Bennet, after meeting you, I was very glad to be proved wrong and found you to a very pleasant, if not a slightly impertinent woman with strong views and a very clever mind. However, in my eyes you are now a liar and could be accused of perverting the course of justice. HOW COULD YOU HAVE HAD A RELATIONSHIP WITH THAT BEAST? How could you have let it go on for so long? What did he give you? Drugs? Did you feel clever because you were going out with a handsome man who was older than you? Why did it end, Ms Bennet? Why did he finish with you? Did he realise what a b***h you really are?"
"That is enough, Mr. Darcy. I will see you next Monday. I don't look forward to it."
I really don't think that I have cried so much in my life. I wanted to yell at him, "It was me who ended it, not him ... He raped me." But William didn't deserve it. After the way he treated me, he would be lucky if I actually turned up to the trial. He had jumped to completely the wrong conclusion. He didn't even give me a chance to explain myself. Not that I would have told him the truth, but still. He was almost as bad as Wickham himself. They had hurt me, made me cry, tried to ruin my reputation and both had made me feel useless and small. I hated them both and was left with the prospect of seeing them both on Tuesday.
"What now, Jane?" I answered the next phone call with. If I hadn't been so annoyed and tired, I wouldn't have minded having so many calls in one night.
"It's Aunty Maddy."
"Oh, Sorry, Aunt. I saw the ID and assumed it was Jane. Sorry."
"I know that you don't want talk about what happened earlier, so I'm not going to ask you. It is just that your uncle and I were going to ask you something, but as you left early, we couldn't so I thought I would call and ask anyway."
"Of course," I welcomed after feeling mean that I had been so harsh, even if it hadn't been Jane anyway.
"Well, your uncle and I are going to the Lake District in March, on a little holiday. We booked it as a get away for us, but we thought that you could use a break and since you weren't going to do it for yourself, we ordered you a ticket. Would you like to go?"
"I would love to. As long as I am not intruding on your break."
"You would never be intruding, dearest," she replied kindly.
"I shall be able to see all the beautiful countryside and forget about all my troubles. Indeed, what are men to rocks and mountains?* I would really like to come, Aunt Maddy. Thank you for inviting me."
Finally, something that I could look forward to. Spending time with Maddy and Ed would be enjoyable. They were the sort of people who you could get close to and confide in but who wouldn't press you for information when you were upset or wanted to hide. Maddy was probably more of a mother than my real one. I loved my Mum and everything, but growing up with her wasn't half a nightmare. Sometimes I wondered how my father could still manage to be married to her.
I also wondered why the hell I didn't keep my thoughts to myself. My Dad had been having a crap time in life, since all his children had left home; he had been left with only my mother, her mad, strange nerves and her weekly WI meetings. I never thought that it would ever come to the point when he left her and they separated, but it did. The party had been the final straw for him. My mother had been screaming in her banshee way things like, "Oh, my darling Jane is going to be so very, very rich," "Look at them together," "I'm glad that he is handsome and rich, though, looks don't matter as long as he has money!" No matter how many times he asked her to hold her tongue she wouldn't listen and had continued to parade herself around in a silly manner. All this was according to my father who turned up at my apartment at nine in the evening with a suitcase full of things and a guilty look on his face. I asked him to explain what had happened.
When they had got home, he had asked her why it was that she was determined to ruin their daughter's birthday. She had told him that he should stop being so ridiculous. He had said that she was a complete hypocrite and had shamed the entire family with her thoughtless comments. They had a screaming match, throwing insults. I couldn't believe what he was telling me. Whenever my father was annoyed with my mother and sick of her 'nerves', he usually went to hide in his study and read a book or something. This had been the end of my father's nerves. He shouted something along the lines of "I have had ENOUGH of you. I'm leaving." She was shouting, "You wouldn't dare." He gave her the very look that I was always distributing and went upstairs and got an already packed suitcase.
I felt awful. I had been so wrapped up in my own problems, complaining about my own tough life, that I hadn't even noticed that my parents were in such a state. I let my father in and sat him down with a cup of tea. He looked even older than the night before. I had always assumed that though my parents' marriage was a sham, they would have stayed together for the rest of their lives. Divorce was something for those young couples who had married in haste and now regretted it. Those of the older generation were content to just live it out. Or so I thought. "You are very welcome to stay here for a bit, Dad."
"I couldn't, Lizzy."
"Why not? You haven't got anywhere else to go," I reasoned. He told me that he would check into a hotel or something. "You have a very busy week. You don't need your old man hanging around you being a nuisance."
"You're not a nuisance, Dad. Just stay here tonight and then tomorrow you can go and see Mum and sort out this mess."
"I don't want to see her."
"Dad, you sound like a child."
He just snorted and took another sip out of his tea. I was struggling to think of something to say. Nothing I could say would make him change his mind about what he wanted to do. From him was where I got my stubbornness. "You both love each other, Dad. You're just having a bad time ... It could be partly mine and Jane's fault. Mother is simply concerned that we girls will never settle down. She just takes her concerns a little too far."
"Don't blame yourself, Lizzy. It's her fault, if she would just calm down a bit, it would be fine."
"She has nothing else to do, father, except to marry off her daughters."
I was defending my mother. For the first time in my life, I was trying to see everything from her point of view. She was scared that we would die as spinsters, all alone with no-one to care for us. She had had her prime of life and didn't want to see us waste our lives. I was taking her side against my father's, something I thought I would never do.
"What are you going to do now then, Dad? Divorce her? You cannot pretend that you don't love her. When you married her you loved her, and I know that you do really still love her, deep in your heart."
"Elizabeth ... You don't know what happened."
"What are you talking about Dad?" I asked. I wondered what other things might have happened in the family history that I was unaware of.
"We married because your mother was pregnant. We were very young and our parents forced us to marry."
"But..." How was that possible? Jane was the eldest and she was born two years after Mum and Dad had married. It didn't add up.
"The boy was premature and died after a week." His face showed all the signs of a completely suffering man.
"Oh ... Why didn't you say anything to us?"
"It didn't seem important."
Didn't seem important, that we had a brother that had died when he was a week old? I was shocked that they could have hidden something so important from us ... Hidden something? I had done the same thing. I had been so proud and hidden something which could have prevented George stealing all the money, prevented the possibility that the same thing could have happened to other girls. My father and I were the same. We had hidden things and we had both paid the price of suffering and pain. Now, we had both lost the trust of people that we loved.
Jane refused to answer the phone when I had called her back that morning. Charles had said that she didn't want to speak. That was the worst outcome. Jane was the most forgiving and kind person that I knew. She could never get angry with anyone and always tried to see the reason behind someone's bad actions and gave them the benefit of the doubt. Charles said that she was upset and tired of trying to understand what was wrong with me and was sick of trying to make me confide in her.
*Obviously, quoting our beloved author! Another of my all time favourite lines from my favourite books.
Chapter 11 Posted on Wednesday, 4 May 2005
Chapter 11
I dressed carefully, putting on my smartest black skirt/jacket combo. I tied my manically fuzzy hair back into a bun and pinned it down with as many pins as I could find. I found an old pair of black shoes that neither said "look at me, please I need some attention," or "I have no idea what a shoe shop or a cobbler is," I put a tiny bit of foundation on, which made my skin look normal and devoid of bags under my eyes, in the hope that it would lead people to believe that I wasn't worried about the approaching day or that I hadn't been in tears trying to work out what I could say in my defense. I was determined not to be open about what happened with George all those years ago, but then...A part of me, I guess the sensible part really wanted all the lies and the secrecy to be over.
My whole family was in confusion. Jane still didn't answer my calls and my father was getting more calls a day from my mother than I had ever received in a year and as he was still living in my apartment, I got to witness my father's stern and unmoving response to her begging. He had really been serious in his moving out. It was horrible watching both my parents go through this. I had assumed that all would be well within a day, but after three days, nothing had changed. I was wrong again.
It proved to be an uneventful day. As soon as I got to the high court, I was sat in a room full of other witness-type people and sat waiting for my turn. About four hours later after reading the book I had brought with me through twice, I was told that the court had adjourned for lunch and that Mr. Darcy wanted to see me. I felt like a school girl walking to the headmaster's office after being caught smoking in the toilets. I was nervous, strangely and felt very worried about what had happened. I wasn't sure whether it was allowed...I had always thought that the lawyer wasn't allowed to speak to his witness before they went in, but I didn't think that it was likely that Lord Darcy of God-knows-where would ever break the rules.
"Mr. Darcy," I said wondering whether I should bow. He was on his mobile, staring out of the window. He bid the person an affectionate goodbye and then hung up.
"Ms Bennet, I think that in these circumstances, before I speak to you about the trial, I think that both of us should hold our tongues and concentrate on the matter in hand, and not about the past." He didn't even turn around from his staring out of the window. I thought that was exceedingly rude.
"OK, then sir."
"Wickham has pleaded 'Not guilty' on the grounds of stealing, adding that he feels someone inside the company, with access to his accounts stole it and made it look like it was him. Now, obviously, the defense can turn that on you, as I believe they know about your..." He shuddered as he said it, "...relationship. However, the statements were all released a week ago and I cannot make it so you are not a witness. I need not add the fact that had I known about your ... relationship a week ago, everything would have been a lot easier..."
"Then why did you?" I interrupted, unable to resist.
"I'm sorry?"
"Why did you add it?" He was still looking out of the window and about to speak when I said, "Look, I am sorry that I didn't tell you, but I didn't want to. It is a relationship that has absolutely nothing to do with the trial and I don't want to talk about it."
"All the same, Ms Bennet the defense will bring it up and since I trust that you were not involved in the stealing of the money, all you will have to say is the truth." He paused for a bit still not even having the courtesy to turn around and he sniffed slightly. "Have you got a cold?" I asked, a sudden very strange moment of concern for him coming over me. "Do you need a tissue?" I began walking forward but stopped when he almost yelled, "NO!" and then, "No..." a little more quietly. I could not tell what the matter was with him but he said to me, "No thank you...Ms Bennet it is best if you go. It is impossible that we will get to you today as we are still having arguments about the number of women on the jury. Get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow."
I nodded, and then remembered that he couldn't see me and looked once again at his back and then looked into the window where I could see the reflection of his face, which almost certainly had tears rolling down his face. Shocked, I mumbled my thanks etc and left the room, in wonder and curiosity as to what had made a man of such strength cry.
I went home and tried yet again to call Jane. It was just gone three so I assumed that she would be back from work and not busy. Charles answered the phone and though surprised he was staying at Jane's house; I said in quite a relaxed tone, "Hi, is Jane there?"
"Hello Elizabeth," he said without even having to ask who it was.
"Is Jane back from work yet?" I asked.
"No she is normally back about four." Normally? Was he trying to imply that I didn't know much about my sister?
"Oh ... Ok then."
"Right then..."
"Look, Charles," I interrupted, "Could you tell her that I called and that I am really, really sorry about what happened and that ... well, that I miss being able to talk to her."
"She does too."
"I'm sorry?" I questioned, confused.
"She says that she is fine, but really, Elizabeth, I know that she is upset that you two aren't talking much."
I remembered why Charles was great! He was probably the most useful man that I knew. That is exactly what I would want in man. I would want him to be able to understand me completely, but still to know when to just agree with me when I told him something completely contrary to the truth.
I went out for a walk in the fresh air. The night was crisp and bitter and I was glad that I had wrapped up warm. I went into Hyde Park and wandered aimlessly around the huge amounts of lovers that were on romantic strolls, wondering what it was about me that was so unappealing. I could see a free bench that I started to head towards, when a young girl, who could not have been more than seventeen years old, with a small, timid and mousy looking face sat where I was going to sit.
At first, I was simply miffed, but when I looked closely, I saw that the girl was crying. A sudden recollection of me being that age and sitting on my own crying with no one to comfort me came into my head. She had a little suitcase with her, obviously packed to the top, with a big sticker saying, "I love my cello" and also a cello case. I walked over to her, saying, "Hey there...Are you Okay?"
She sniffed slightly and said, "My brother has thrown me out of the house." I felt so sorry for her and worried about her. It was the only thing that year that I felt proved I actually had a heart. "Has he? Or are you exaggerating?"
"Well, I know that he will."
"How do you know that when you haven't spoken to him?"
"I know what he is like."
This poor girl was shivering and so very frightened that she was making me scared. I wondered what I could do to help her. I felt a strange sense of responsibility and concern; like that I could do something good for a change, and help someone other than myself.
"I'm Elizabeth," I said, trying to befriend this stranger.
"I'm Anne," she replied.
"I guess you play the cello," I stated the obvious, trying to get her to talk to me. "Are you any good?"
"I'm okay," she replied.
"I play the clarinet," I added to the conversation. "How far did you get on the cello?"
"I was in the National Youth Orchestra a while ago."
"Me too. How old are you, Anne? If you don't mind me asking?"
She told me that she was twenty three. She was undoubtedly a very young looking person and obviously shy and naïve, but I was unsure as to why she was worried about her brother throwing her out. Wouldn't she have moved out by this point?
"I slept with my boyfriend, and now I'm pregnant and he has deserted me," she admitted very quickly, as if she wanted to get it off her chest. "I wasn't really ready, but I loved him, even though he is ten years older than me, it was my first time and now this has happened, and he hasn't spoken since I told him I was pregnant, two months ago."
"Have you told your brother?" I asked.
"Yes, I told him earlier ... He sounded so upset, saying that he would kill the man who had done this to me, and how had he been so neglecting? And who was he; because he would make certain that the man would never see daylight again. I tried to explain that I hadn't been forced into it, but he wouldn't listen. And now, I don't think he wants me in the house."
"Did you tell him who the man was?"
"No ... I didn't think it was a good idea. Especially when my brother would have found out that the man was the same age as him."
I asked Anne as politely as I could, why her brother was so protective. It seemed to me that he was a little too worried about her, and that at the age of twenty three, she wasn't getting out like a normal twenty three year old would. She said that her mother had died in a car crash when she was only three days old. This had left her father desolate and inconsolable which meant that her brother had been like a father to her, well, as much of a father a man eight years older than you can be, and still didn't want to let her go.
"Look, Anne, why don't you just call up your brother, and ask him how you stand. I'm sure that he is really worried about you and how you are and that he will care for you throughout your pregnancy."
After a few more entreaties, she called him. I could hear the state of panic in the voice. Her brother had been about to call the police when she hadn't arrived home. He had been so worried about her when she had been only a few hours late. He told her to come home straight away and she thanked me for making her see straight and almost skipped out of the park.
I missed Jane. I missed the fun we would have. I hated men! Charlotte and Jane had both changed so much since they had given up their spinsterhood. The entire world that I lived in was changing. Everyone else it seemed was moving along without me. I even suspected my father was having an affair with someone. All I had to show for my life was a career. I used to think that that was enough for me and that I didn't need other people, but I knew it wasn't. I envied Anne, an almost total stranger, because she had got someone who cared so much about her that he was worried if she was a few hours late. I wished that I had someone like that.
Chapter 12 Posted on Wednesday, 4 May 2005
Four days later, pushing my way past the crowd of people trying to comfort me as I left the high court with tears streaming down my face; I wondered whether I had done the right thing. Jane, my father, my mother, Kitty and Charlotte were just some of the few who were trying to hug me and make me feel better.
I had finally been called as a witness. William Darcy started questioning me. On the humorous side of all the mess I was in, I had to say that that was one of the only times he had spoken civilly to me. Beastie was going to deliberately ignore the question, "How well did you know George?"
I was sworn in and I promised to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, and etc. "Ms Bennet, at the time that Mr. Wickham was fired, you were his boss. Is that correct?" I told the court that it was. "Would you mind describing to the court why it was that the defendant was fired?"
"Mr. Wickham would always be late, he would get half the amount of work done that the other staff would do, he was generally rude and insolent when asked to do things, and also there were several complaints filed from young women working in the office about Mr. Wickham's suggestive comments and actions towards them."
"Ms Bennet, were you the only person who decided to fire the defendant?"
"No. It was a joint decision, made by me, Mr. Wickham's supervisor, and the other people in top management who felt that he was not at all useful to the progress of the company."
"Thank you, Ms Bennet that is all."
The judge instructed the defense lawyer to question me. This was the part that I had been terrified about. I was certain that this man, Mr. Jeffries, or whatever he was called, had a smirk on his face, like he knew something that would definitely ruin me. I had, in the past week, decided that whatever I was questioned, I would answer truthfully, whether that meant explaining the past with George or not. There had been too many lies, too much concealment and secrecy and I had had enough of it. My father had taught me in the past week how it truly felt to have been neglected and lied to by someone that you loved.
Since finding out about the reason my parents married, and since discovering that we would have had a brother if God had permitted it, I felt that I couldn't connect properly with my Dad. I found it so impossible to believe that he had lied to me, and it made me think about what my actions had been. I was certain my family would be upset and angry that I had not told them the true reason for the ending of the relationship with George all those years ago and yet, each time that I had come close to telling my father or Jane, the longer it had been since the event, the harder it had been to tell them.
When Jane had finally stopped ignoring my calls and listened to me apologise wholeheartedly, I had felt so relieved and content. Jane said she was sorry for behaving a little too dramatically, but for the first time in a long time, I insisted on taking all the blame. We met up for lunch, and no sooner had we sat down and started looking at the menu I saw the huge diamond stone on her finger. "JANE!" I almost screamed and drew the attention of half of the surrounding diners. "He proposed?" I questioned, taking the volume of my voice down slightly.
The almost Charles-like grin on my sister's face was enough evidence to the affirmative. She told me exactly how it had been done: "Lizzy ... It was so terribly romantic. What happened was ... Well, the night before last, we were at my apartment and had just finished our dinner and were watching ... Oh ... I forget what it was ... I think it was 'Casualty' ... No ... That was Tuesday night..."
"Jane! I don't care what you were watching, get on with the proposing!"
"...Ok, he said to me after the programme had finished ... These were his exact words, I can remember them perfectly, "My darling Jane, I know that it has only been a month since we met, but I have never felt so happy in this last month. There is no doubt in my mind, that you are the perfect woman for me and that I will love you forever and ever. So, I wanted to show you how much I love you, in the hope that you will accept this ring..." (He got out the ring here) "...and that you will consent to be my wife and make me the happiest man alive. Will you?" And then, I couldn't speak, I was so overjoyed and then he looked quite worried that I would say 'no', so I managed to squeak, "Of course I will, Charles. I love you too!"
That was my idea of a good marriage proposal. None of that stupid nonsense that I had experienced in the frozen food aisle in my local supermarket with a certain Billy Collins. I had heard from valuable sources, e.g. Charlotte that he still had a bruise on his thigh from where I lobbed the bag of Tesco Value Peas at him. That then made me feel really sick when I realised that Charlotte must have seen the bruise on his thigh for her story to be accurate. URGH! The thought of Billy 'going for it' with Charlotte made me want to throw up, and I instantly tried to think of something else.
My mother and father were still not back together to their normal 'happy' selves. My father was no longer living in my apartment, and had now moved out to God-knows-where. Actually, I did have a suspicion. I had received three messages on my answer phone (shock, horror) obviously, none of which were for me, but for my Dad when he was still staying over. The messages were from Eileen Long, one of my mother's friends, telling my Dad that there was plenty of room for him at her house, because her husband, Derek was staying with his sick mother.
I pretended that I hadn't heard these messages, and so also pretended that I was shocked when my father told me that he was leaving, later that day. I couldn't decide whether I thought it was a good thing that my Dad was having an affair. A part of me thought, 'Go him, he has had to put up with my mother for all these years,' but another part of me thought, 'Mrs. Long, Dad? You could have been a bit more sensitive.' The way that the retired women in Longbourn gossiped, it wouldn't be a week before the secret was out.
Two days before the day that I gave evidence at court, my youngest sister, Kitty came back from her college in the north of England. Despite a large yearning on my part to see the moping and moaning of my annoying mother, I suggested to Kitty that she come and stay with me for a few days, so that I wouldn't have to go up there. She agreed, and we spent the evening catching up. She told me all about how the men who lived around her campus were very eager to befriend her and her group of friends, and about how her degree was going and general things like that.
"Well," she said secretively when I asked her if there was a man in her life, "I have been dating this one guy ... Jack,"
"What do you mean by 'dating'? Is it serious?"
"I wouldn't say it was serious, but I like him very much. What about you, Lizzy? You are twice as pretty as me; I bet you have to fight them off!"
"Ha!" I laughed a little too enthusiastically, "I wish. It appears that you are safe in Liverpool. It is far enough away from our mother. Here in London, the men that meet her think that I am going to turn into her in a few years time!"
As I surveyed the court, I could see the silly grin of Wickham, showing he knew exactly what was to come, I could see my family, Jane and my mother were sitting together, and Kitty and father as far away from my mother as possible, Charlotte and Kyle had come for some sane moral support as well, and I almost laughed when Kyle gave me a thumbs up.
"Ms Bennet," the loud voice of the lawyer started me into thinking normally again. He had certainly taken his time in getting ready ... probably to build up anticipation. Wasn't there a phrase, "anticipation is the key?" or was that just me on a random-making-up-phrases spree?
"How long have you worked in the company?"
"About five or six years."
Well, that one was easy! I was expecting him to say, "Is it or is it not true that you had a two year long, intimate relationship with the defendant?" THOUGHTS TO YOURSELF ELIZABETH BENNET! Wait a minute. Those thoughts were to myself ... All these thoughts are to myself. OKAY! STOP THINKING, FULL STOP! Because you can guess what he said next! Oh yes!
"Is it or is it not true that you had a two year long, intimate relationship with the defendant?"
"Um ... It is true," I replied, unable to muster the strength to lie in front of so many people.
"So you and he were close?"
"I wouldn't say that."
"Well, perhaps you wouldn't, Ms Bennet but I have here a statement from one of the workers in your old department, a Mrs. Steinway ... Number 6A, your honour ... it says here, 'Elizabeth Bennet and George Wickham were inseparable. Even during office hours, you could see them on the phone together, messaging each other, emailing each other. It was so very romantic and sweet. They were totally smitten and Ms Bennet was certainly in love with George. She even told me herself.' Does that not classify as a close relationship, Ms Bennet?"
I made no response. I assumed that it was a rhetorical question. I could see Monsieur Beastie shaking his head, with his head in his hand. I was trying to understand how muscles enabled him to do that when Mr. Jeffries continued and went on with, "Ms Bennet, did you pretend that it was Mr. Wickham who committed the crime, by transferring money into his account?"
"Objection, your honour. Mr. Wickham is the alleged here, not Ms Bennet."
"Mr. Darcy, I agree with you. Mr. Jeffries that is an inappropriate question."
"My apologies, your honour. Ms Bennet, Is it true that your relationship with Mr. Wickham lasted over two years?"
"Yes."
"How old were you at the time?"
"At what time?"
"How old were you when you first began your intimate relationship with Mr. Wickham?"
"Your honour," said Beastie as he stood up, "I fail to see what relevance this has to the alleged act of robbery on Mr. Wickham's part." Mr. Jeffries was allowed to proceed when he said, "I am merely trying to clarify whether firstly, my client was wrongly fired and secondly that it is possible that Ms Bennet was more involved than originally thought, which would prove my clients belief that he was tricked by someone in the company who wanted Mr. Wickham to go to prison."
Darcy sighed and sat down, giving me a look that said 'I really wish that you had told me at the start'
"I repeat, Ms Bennet how old were you?"
"I was twenty-one."
"That would make Mr. Wickham ... twenty six at the time. Isn't that a large age gap?"
"I have known larger."
"Ms Bennet. Mr. Wickham was fired four days after you and he broke up. Is it true that the reason Mr. Wickham was fired was because he had dumped you and you didn't want him around the office?"
"No."
"What was the reason then?"
"I have already explained the reasons to Mr. Darcy, and you heard them as well."
"It seems strangely coincidental that no more than four days after you two broke up he was sacked. I have the statement here that says that the official review into his employment went ahead the day after you split up."
I said nothing, knowing full well that that was what had happened. I did wonder how he managed to find all this stuff out though and felt tempted to ask him where he had got all this information from. He saw my unasked question and said, "I discovered this from Mr. Wickham himself, Ms Bennet. Do you wish to contradict it?" Seeing that I wasn't going to say anything, he said, "Why did your relationship end, Ms Bennet? I believe that it was thought that you and Mr. Wickham were going to get married. Is that why you fired him? You thought you were going to get a marriage proposal but you got dumped instead."
"Mr. Jeffries," I said sternly, knowing that I could not cope with him making things up any longer. "I would ask you not to speculate on the relationship between Mr. Wickham and myself. You do no good at guesswork."
"If that is the case, Ms Bennet, then perhaps you would tell me the real reason that Mr. Wickham was fired, and also the reason why he ended the relationship."
"He has been telling you lies, Mr. Jeffries. I was the one that ended it."
"Oh really ... On what grounds?"
I sighed deeply and began the much belated tale, "George had slowly been making me more and more reliant on him. I was a lot younger than him, and I was deceived into believing that I could not live without him. It wasn't until my friends Kyle and Charlotte noticed what was happening that I even noticed it myself. He refused to let me go out with my friends and controlled my every move. He wanted to know who I had spoken to everyday, and he answered the phone and if it was for me, he would say I wasn't in. He was obsessed and a control freak. My whole personality had changed, and I didn't like it. He tried to make me take drugs and even though I didn't, he definitely did. When told him I wanted out, he..." I had tears forming in my eyes, and I couldn't bring myself to look at any of the people I knew in the court. I stared at the wood of the box I was standing in, "...He ... He..." tears were now flowing down my cheeks as I remembered that horrible night, "...He raped me."
The entire court gasped and began mumbling amongst themselves. I had worked myself up into a fit and was trying hard to disguise the heavy breathing. I remember seeing George stand up and shout loudly, "You utter B****H. I warned you not to say anything, Elizabeth."
I could see about six of him struggling with about 36 security guards. My family had multiplied and I could see about five of Jane with their hands all over their mouths in shock. The judges had about seven hammers in each of their seven hands. I turned slightly and saw Beastie, looking at me worriedly, and suddenly running towards me shouting, "Elizabeth!" It echoed in my ears as he reached the dock and opened the door. I was certain I managed to give him a confused look before I completely collapsed into his arms and all I could remember was an empty black hole.
Chapter 13 Posted on Saturday, 7 May 2005
"Elizabeth ... Elizabeth ... Elizabeth ... MS BENNET!" was the ceaseless shouting that I could hear. I was so sleepy and I wanted to shout, "Shut it, I'm trying to get some rest here!"
I opened my eyes, and gradually everything went from a blur, and my eyes began to focus once again. William Darcy was leaning over me, with a very concerned look on his face. I was lying down on a brownish coloured sofa and was hit with a sense of having been in this room before. I recognised the mahogany interiors and the large, pretentious bookcase with at least 500 books on it. I saw the charming bay window in the distance and remembered that it was Beastie's office.
I looked into caring, concerned and almost protective looking eyes and said in a tone that I rarely use (one without sarcasm), "What happened, William?"
He almost choked when I called him 'William'. I wondered whether he was offended, and whether I should have stuck with the usual 'Mr. Darcy' that I normally addressed him with, but when I looked closely, I determined that he wasn't offended, quite the contrary: it looked as if he was smiling! He looked like a little boy on Christmas Day who had just got the present he wanted most in the world. He quickly regained his composure and then said to me, "You fainted, Elizabeth."
He called me Elizabeth? The first time he had breached formality. Then I remembered that it wasn't the first. The last memory I had was of him, just one of him, running towards me and shouting my name. I had been on the verge of fainting then, but now that I was almost thinking in my right mind, I was wondering why it was that the entire court had multiplied with my blurry vision except for him. He was the only solid and non-wavering thing that remained as a whole person in my state of panic. I then wondered what on earth my own mind was implying.
"I remember seeing George fighting with security officers. What has happened to him?"
"He has been taken back into custody. It took about 6 officers to actually secure him. He was in a very foul temper. I think the judge intends for him to be tried on the additional charges you made against him as well."
I nodded, still not feeling entirely back to normal and wondering where this new-found, kind, useful William had come from. I moved around slightly from the uncomfortable position that I had been placed in. I wondered whether it was Darcy who had carried me the distance from the court room to his office. Something strange inside me, perhaps it was the sense of still being confused and in a daze, made me want him to understand why I had done what I had done, "I ... I hope ... I truly wish, Mr. Darcy that you realise why I didn't tell you about George and I?"
"I do. I understand, Ms Bennet. I am so sorry ... So very sorry, for all those things that I said to you about him. I feel so guilty now that I know the truth. I am hardly surprised that you didn't confide in me when I behaved in the unforgivable manner that I did. I am angered by how much Wickham has done to you, and I will not stop until I have got you the justice that you deserve. I hope that you accept my apologies. I cannot begin to say how sorry I am for all the things I said and called you ... Please forgive me."
He seemed so sincere and true, that no matter how much I had disliked him in the past and through all the things that we had said to one another, I had to accept his apologies. "I do forgive you. I am sorry as well. I didn't want to have to tell anyone about what happened. Nobody knew until today. I hadn't even told my sister. I have had this pressing on me for years and years and all I could do was keep it bottled up. It hurt me so much. He ruined what should have been the best days of my life."
Nobody knew what a vulnerable person I was. Everyone thought, 'Lizzy is strong, she can handle anything!' Whenever I have needed to cry, I run to be on my own. I dislike other people seeing me upset. I have always been so independent and strong-minded, that I want to grieve on my own. In that office, in the arms of a man I hardly knew how I felt about, I was so emotional, and so confused, I cried and cried. William Darcy, the man who I have never liked, laughed and joked at, who was just that rich, proud, boring lawyer, comforted me and soothed my tears.
"I feel so stupid, William. So stupid to have been deceived by Wickham and so stupid to have kept it a secret from all my loved ones also."
"There, there, Elizabeth, do not say such things. We all make mistakes and do things that we regret in the future."
"Even you?" I sniffed like a child. He laughed slightly and put his hands either side of my face, "even me." He said finally, looking deep into my eyes. I felt the urge to look away from his gaze, but I couldn't. It was like he was bewitching me. I swallowed, slightly nervous as to what was going to happen next, when low and behold, there was a knock at his door.
He let go of my face, with a look that seemed to me to be reluctance, and then bid the person to enter. "Mr. Darcy, sir. I brought the first aid kit as you instructed." An official looking person brought in the green bag with a cross on it, and William took the bag off him, thanked him and then dismissed him without a second glance.
"This mess is all my fault!" he shouted. He had forgotten about the first aid. I was unfortunately obviously going to live.
"Don't be silly, William. What have you done wrong?"
"None of this could have happened to you if I hadn't let him...Urgh! That utter scoundrel! I cannot believe that I have caused you so much suffering."
He stood up, began pacing around the room and looked at me strangely. "Elizabeth, I feel I can confide in you." I was unsure what he was referring to, but he looked like he had something on his plate, and he had just defended me to his best ability, so I told him that he could confide in me.
"I need you, of all people to understand the reasons that I took on this case. I feel so responsible for all of these events. I wish that..." He rushed forward to me and took my hands and enclosed them in his own. "...I hate myself for what he has done to you. You must know that I esteem you above most other people, Elizabeth and ... now that I know what he did to you, I must tell you. You must know of my full history with George Wickham.
"George and I grew up together, in the north of Derbyshire. We were great friends as children, but as we entered into our teens, he went wild as some say. He cheated on his many girlfriends, and was accused of 'befriending' girls who were far too young to be involved with him. My father knew his father well, and promised that when George wanted to go to university, he would pay for him. My father also made it no secret that he had left George Wickham a substantial sum of money in his will.
"He and I didn't really talk much, after we both left for Cambridge when we were eighteen. We saw each other around, but he and I moved in very different circles and neither of us particularly wanted to chat with each other. That was when I met Charles Bingley. Charles and I got on well, and I learnt what it was to have a real friend.
"I only saw George once in our third and final year at Cambridge. My father had recently died, and when the will was about to be executed, George and I discovered to both our surprises, that George had been cut off without any money whatsoever. We were both surprised, but he was also livid. He went mad on me, telling me that he had been counting on that money to make his fortune, and how I must compensate him.
"I didn't know the reason that my father cut him from the will, I had a suspicion someone had told him of George's indiscretions, but I still felt sorry for him, so I gave him £30,000 to tie over his problems and let him go on his way. However, unbeknownst to me, he had managed to access my accounts during the process of my father's money being handed over to me. He took a further £100,000 out of the funds, but luckily I caught him. I told him that I would not inform the police as long as he gave the money back. He did and that was the last I heard of Wickham until the recent trial."
William paused, but I could tell that there was a lot more. I was beginning to get a headache. All this information was confusing me and making my head commence spinning again. He needed to talk though, so I let him carry on.
"I have a younger sister, Anne. She is twenty three. I rarely see her, though she lives with me. We only chat in the evenings, she is doing her final year in the London University, and I have been busy for a long time. However, on the day that the trial started, she called me in the lunch break, just as you were about to come and speak to me. She told me that she was 2 months pregnant and that the father didn't want anything to do with her and since telling her so, over a month ago, she hadn't seen him since. That evening, when I got home, I was told that Anne had left the house in tears earlier and hadn't returned since. Eventually, that evening, she called, after having spoken to a friend, as she said, and then I managed to get her to come home.
"She had been frightened that I would want to kick her out of the house when I discovered who the father was. It was George Wickham. I couldn't do anything. He hadn't forced himself on her, like he did with you. She had actually wanted it. That has been my true mistake, Elizabeth. I should have told the police all those years ago about Wickham's stealing and none of this would have happened. I also should have taken better care of my sister. She is all I have left of my family."
I had no idea what to say. He looked just as ill as I felt. I was stunned into silence for one of the first times. He looked at me and asked me if I was ok. I told him that I felt ill, confused and dizzy. He apologised for having told me so much and so many things to digest. Tears were building up in my eyes again and I chastised myself quietly for being so emotional and feeling so depleted. He asked me if I wanted to go home.
"Yes, please, William. I need to get some rest and try to make sense of what has happened today." I was almost hysterical. I wanted so much to just forget about what was happening and just get some sleep.
Pushing my way past the crowd of people trying to comfort me as I left the high court with tears streaming down my face; I wondered whether I had done the right thing. Jane, my father, my mother, Kitty and Charlotte were just some on the few who were trying to hug me and make me feel better. I wasn't alone though. He was there, holding me from behind and fending off the huge crowds of photographers that wanted my picture. He found me a taxi and instructed the driver to take me home.
Chapter 14 Posted on Saturday, 7 May 2005
I was amazingly confused. I got home and my head was pounding and I could feel the beating of my heart through my brain. I was so very confused. I popped some tablets and took three of them all at once. I seriously needed to clear my head and think around the events that had happened in the last five weeks. My phone rang. I didn't want to speak to anyone. I answered, and when Jane asked me if I was ok, I hung up. I did the same when my father and Kitty called. The phone rang for a fourth time, which I assumed to me by mother, and I unplugged the wretched thing. I turned off my mobile and just lay on the settee.
I tried to breathe and to be calm, my mind wondered off into memories of the trial, only hours ago but I forced my thoughts onto the present. I made a deal with myself that I was going to sort out my life then and there. Sort out everything, from the past and sort out the future. I began to write a list;
PROBLEMS:
1.George Wickham
2.William Darcy
3.Jane Bennet
4.Mum
5.Dad
6.Lack of direction with my personal life
7.Lack of mental stability
8.Lack of holidays
The last one was the easiest to deal with. I called up the office and told Kyle that I was taking the next three days off. Check number 8. I would spend the next few days relaxing and sorting out the mess that I had got myself into.
I looked back at the list. Five eighths of the problems consisted with people. Maybe due to the useless time I was having in life, I was taking it out on other people. Or was it the other way round? One person had been annoying me so much that I had began to take it all out on the other four people on the list.
I wasn't ready to think about him though. I needed to delve deeper into my past and decide what my feelings regarding George Wickham, number one on the list were. What did I feel? When I was with him, all those years back, there was no doubt that I felt love. When he raped me, and we had finished, I felt betrayed, hurt and upset. For the next two years I felt useless, lonely, immature and sad. After that, when I realised what an idiot I had been and how stupid it was to behave in the way that I had, all that pining and desperation, I felt angry. Angry and mad that he ruined those years of my life that were supposed to be great ... You know, the 'just out of college years'.
But what did I feel now? There was no doubt that I was glad he would go to prison and that I had finally admitted to people what happened back then. But really, I wish that I had done it in a less public and dramatic manner. He had been smirking at me throughout my testimony, making me feel small like he had done for all the time he had known me.
I was sick of him. He didn't even deserve my pity. What he had done to me, to William, to the company, to Anne, was all so wrong. He had manipulated me and other people to no ends. I was over it. It was in the past, and its remembrance was something that wouldn't pain me again. What had happened had happened. There was absolutely nothing that I or anyone else could do that would change the way that things had turned out. I just had to learn from my mistakes.
I went through my list again, writing next to George's name, 'remember to contact police tomorrow to make a statement...or maybe call Will.' I skipped out number two on my list, his and my actions towards each other too close to recall clearly. Jane was next. I couldn't actually think of why I put her down on the paper. She wasn't annoying me like my mother was, it was more like a hanging gloom over the air. We had been more awkward with each other since we had last made up, and I thought that she really hadn't forgiven me deep down.
Jane had always been there for me. Jane was the sensible, honest elder sister who always thought with a clear mind and never ever panicked. When we were in our teens, she had been the one that all the boys wanted to go out with because she was the calm, kind and beautiful one. I was the mad, sharp, boyish one. She would never get jealous of me when I beat her in something, but such was my character that I would always get jealous of her and her admirers. I remember speaking to Maddy when I was 10. My uncle had just met her and she was the woman who I saw as having everything. She was a career woman, with money, friends, a boyfriend and a beautiful apartment. I wanted to be just like her.
"Maddy, Maddy," I sniffed into her jumper when she answered the door. I had got on the train as an impulsive 10 year old and almost ran to her house. She answered with, "Lizzy, What on earth is the matter? Why are you here in London?"
"I was sad."
"Why were you sad darling?"
"I was sitting in my tree, minding my own business, when Jane's boyfriend, Mike, came along and shouted up to me."
(Jane was 13 at this point and had been going out with Mike for about a month. As you can imagine, I was quite put out that my sister would rather spend her time with a silly boy than with me and also that she had a boyfriend when I hadn't got one and was determined to ruin it for her.) "What happened, Elizabeth ... Tell me," Maddy instructed after I sort of stopped talking for a while.
"He said, 'hey kiddo!' and I told him that I am certainly not a kiddo and that I was 11 in a month and that I was very annoyed with his treating me in that way. He laughed as I said that, which made me be even more annoyed with him. I started to come down from my tree and then he asked me if Jane was in."
Maddy had looked at me as if, 'Elizabeth, you didn't?' but she said, "Carry on..."
I told Maddy how I had said to Mike that Jane wasn't in, but she was with her new boyfriend Joshua. Mike looked very upset and said, "Joshua Thomas?" He sniffed and I said, "Yes, she told me that he was much better looking than you, and that you were one of the most boring people she had ever had to kiss and that she felt sorry for you and that you were a loser." I had put my ten year old hands into the shape of an 'L' and he had run off into the garden and gone home.
Maddy had asked me what Jane had said and I told her that Jane didn't know and that she thought that he just didn't want to talk to her anymore and then she cried and pretended that she was ok. Maddy had said to me how she was shocked that I had been nasty to Mike and Jane, and I had told her how I couldn't care less and that it served Jane right for being so perfect and always having everything that I wanted.
I still felt mean that I had put her on my list. That was what I disliked about my sister. She was so pleasant and lovely. She got a perfect boyfriend...fiancé because of it. Whenever I was being nice to someone, you could tell that it was forced and that really I was jealous of their nice hair/new shoes, but when Jane complimented someone, she really meant it and she really meant that person well.
What was my problem though? Why did Jane's friendliness and kindness affect me like it did? I had loved her for it most of my life, but now I saw her as one of the problems in my life. I sat down and ate a ridiculous amount of strawberry ice cream and listened to classic FM whilst trying to come to some sort of conclusion. After a while thinking about it, I determined that it was the fact that we had been so close for such a long time, and now that she had Charles she didn't need me that was driving me mad. Whether she was the eldest or not, we both relied on each other as soon as I hit my teens. Sometimes her dependency on me was stronger than mine on her, but anyway, I knew that the time had come, with her meeting Brown-Shoed Bingley, for us to stop being as close.
Jane wanted a family of her own, and though I was sure she still wanted me as a sister and as a close confidant, she had found someone else who would fit into the category of her favourite person. That someone was Charles and I could tell that she and Charles just wanted to settle down, have children and move away from the city life. Perhaps to somewhere that didn't appeal to me and I saw as boring, like the far and distant shores of West Wales. I had been moaning that I was going to lose her and lose a best friend, but she was going to gain a life partner.
My selfishness had to stop. Sure, my lot in life hadn't been the luckiest of them all, but I had money, food, clothes, water, friends, family, a house, a job, youth. I had all of this, and yet there people in some places that had none of these and didn't complain as much as I did. I hadn't noticed what was happening with my parents, the next two on my list. My mother had turned into an even more depressing bag of nerves than she had been previously, and my Dad was having an affair with the woman who had been my mother's closest friend. What could I do about that? My Dad had promised that at Christmas time, he would spend it with all the family in Longbourn. At least I had that. I was also starting on a new campaign, as well as trying to get rid of selfishness; I was going to stop interfering with my parent's relationship. They were mature adults. Well, my mother wasn't really matured, but she was certainly old. They were my elders and they had the right to maintain their relationship in any way that they wanted. I had no right to dictate that they should get back together. They had known each other long enough to know whether they wanted to stay together.
Still though, a part of me wanted to things to go back to normal for them. Mrs. Eileen Long was just a slightly less exuberant version of my mother. My father was simply looking for a bit of sympathy with Mrs. Long, who never had a decent conversation with her own husband. There was no way he could profess to hate my mother and then go and fall in love with a woman who was equally as silly and ridiculous. Maybe my Mum and Dad just needed a bit of time apart to realise how much they did care for each other.
Only one person was left on the list that I hadn't thought about. William Darcy. He was the one I was saving for last. He was the one that I was most confused about. He was the one that required the most thinking about.
Chapter 15 Posted on Wednesday, 18 May 2005
ARGH! I was so confused. I was confused as to why I was confused, confused as to why I was confused about being confused and even confused about ... Whatever, I was madly confused about everything. It wasn't fair that I was so ... unsure (didn't say confused!) about what had happened. Let's go through the facts; in the past few days, I had...
1. Fallen out with my sister and closest friend
2. Made up with my sister and closest friend
3. Said sister/friend had become engaged to a man she had only known a month
4. Been insulted by a fine and sexy looking man who I lied to about a relationship that I should have forgotten about years ago
5. Witnessed the breaking up of my parents marriage of approximately 30 years (lost count)
6. Watched my Dad have an affair with one of my mother's closest WI friends
7. Been called as a witness to a high court trial, to help prosecute a man who raped me four years ago
8. Had to admit to a court full of people the fact that I was raped four years ago
9. Had to admit to myself that William Darcy may actually be a kind person.
10. Discovered that Will Darcy had a past acquaintance with the person who ruined my life and that his sister was carrying the same said guy's child
11. Realised that I am actually turning into my mother, and going mad!
To put it bluntly, I believe I am starring in the Elizabeth Show! I think that some people would be highly entertained by what has been happening to me in the past ... two days. It could be made into a TV series. People could write in and tell the companies what horrible things they think should happen to me by the time of the next show. My life was turning into one ironic and depressing soap opera.
But I seriously needed to decide what I really thought about William Darcy. Did I like him? No. He was proud, rude, nasty, and arrogant and he thought himself superior to everyone. On the other hand, he had comforted me when I had been crying, cared and sorted me out after the trial, confided in me and trusted me with his history with George, he was handsome, a good brother and the way that he said 'Elizabeth' made me feel like I was going to swoon on the spot. He had almost won the trial for us and...What was I doing? Why was I trying to defend him? I didn't know how he felt about me and my mind was making these leaps. The way that he had held my face in his hands had made me dizzy and wanting more. I was annoyed when that first aid guy had interrupted us. I am quite sure that I would have known what he felt for me by then.
There seemed to be two sides to him. I had known him to be polite, caring, thoughtful, kind and sweet, but then more often than not, he was the complete opposite. What I couldn't understand was why someone who was all those good things sometimes was a meanie at other times. It was like he was afraid of being himself in front of other people. Especially me. What was it about me that made him so nervous? I had never heard anything but praise from all the other people who knew him, but I had always thought the worst of him.
What did I feel when we first met? Before I had even spoken to him I found him physically attractive. All the way through our 'relationship' there has been no denying that he is one of the best looking men on the planet. He was so sexy and every time that I came into contact with him, it made me nervous and sweaty. No, there was no denying that he was gorgeous and that I was in love with his appearance.
What next though? When he had been so rude and formal after Jane had introduced us, I had been ... disappointed I suppose. I had been hoping that I could catch this gorgeous man as quickly as a pro fisherman could catch a trout. What credit I would get for having such a fine looking man escorting me around the place! After overhearing his conversation with Charles though, I thought him all the nasty things in the world. I hoped that he would remain alone for the rest of his life, that he would never have any friends and that I would move on and search for another potential husband. I guess that I was wounded and that was my way of dealing with him. Only for an hour or so was I truly affected by his rude comments, and then after that I simply turned all my upset feelings into anger and revenge. I wanted everyone to like me more. I didn't want my closest friends getting to know him and actually liking the man that I hated.
But did I hate him? Did I hate him or was it just that I was offended by his comment which...he had actually apologised for and he had actually admitted that he was in the wrong. Why had I refused to accept that apology? I had always accused him of being proud, but I had been as well. He had judged me on first impressions, and though I hadn't liked the impression that he had reached with regards to myself, he had at least acknowledged that I was a successful woman and that I was clever, not stupid. But what had I done? I had judged him on first impressions also, but instead of realising that he wasn't as bad as I assumed, I had continued to dislike him and be rude about him and also to his face.
But he had never given me any reason to like him. Until after the trial, he had never been polite and kind, so why should I have thought the opposite? I believed that he was proud when I first met him, and he didn't prove himself to be anything else, so I came to that conclusion. It was so unfortunate that I couldn't come to any sort of conclusion as to my feelings now. Everything in my life had been moving so quickly recently, and I needed to slow down the pace of all the events that had been occurring and to make my life far less dramatic. I needed to get to know him properly. To reintroduce myself to him and get to know the real him, not the 'Beast' as I had labelled him.
Labels! I was continually giving people labels in my life. No-one had the label of 'true confidant' and I so dearly wished that I could find one. I was so lonely in my little one roomed apartment. The only thing that I could look forward to in my daily routine was the hope that someone would remember me and decide to give me a ring and catch up with me. My problem was that I complained bitterly when I didn't get any calls or email, or when nobody but a mortgage company had sent me a letter, but then when Jane or Charlotte did phone me, or my sister did pop round for a visit, I complained that they wouldn't go away. I was so difficult to please that it was madness.
William was such a caring brother. He had raised his sister almost alone, after his mother's death. Anne Darcy. I had been wondering what her surname was. Well, I was assuming that she was his brother. It seemed too much of a coincidence for her not to be. She was pregnant and the father was a scum who refused to know her now, he had a sister who was pregnant and who had ran off when she thought that he had abandoned her. His sister, Anne, who was 23 as well, had gone missing when she had thought he was going to kick her out of the house. They had to be siblings. There was no other explanation. She was 23. The age that I was when George raped me. He had ruined her life when she was 23 just as he had ruined mine.
I plugged the phone back into the socket thing that it went in, and almost instantly it started ringing again. I picked it up and then put it down again without even seeing who it was and then felt bad and did 1471 (the best invention ever, by the way!). Jane's mobile had been ringing me non-stop, so I called her back.
"Jane ... It's me ... Lizzy."
"Lizzy," she almost screamed and then repeated to everyone else who was obviously standing around and taking it in turns to see if I was answering my phone calls yet.
"We were getting so worried about you, Elizabeth. No-one had heard anything from you for almost seven hours."
It had been seven hours? All that brooding and thinking had actually taken some time. All that shouting at myself and telling myself off had actually amounted to some time. I couldn't believe it had been seven hours though. I looked outside and it was pitch black. I looked at the clock for further proof and it was almost ten.
"I'm fine Jane; I just needed some time to think for myself and to calm down really."
"Ok, but you need to know that we are all here for you, Lizzy. We are all so concerned that you felt you couldn't talk to us about it all back then, but we want you to know that we are here for you now and that we are all staying at Mum's tonight and you are very welcome to join us."
"Thanks, darling, but I should be fine ... How is everyone?"
"Elizabeth, will you please stop changing the subject. We are all so worried about you and the only people you can think about is us. We have been sitting here talking for hours about how you have been left on your own for too long and how none of us noticed there was a problem after you and G broke up, and also why it was that you couldn't trust any of us."
"I do trust you guys. What happened was that...Well, as the days turned into weeks and then into months, I found it more and more difficult to tell anyone what the matter was. I am reasonably good at hiding what I really feel, and I convinced myself that it didn't matter and that no-one would really care."
"Elizabeth. We all care. We all love you to pieces. We are so proud of what you have done today. You were so strong and brave. We are all here when you need us and if you don't need us, then we will still love you."
"Thanks Jane."
"Why did you turn your phone back on?"
"I was about to call the police," I said, almost pleased that she had stopped going on about how much they all loved me, because they were making me feel guilty.
"Were you going to make a statement and press charges?" she asked me.
"Yes."
"Well go straight to it, dear. I'm going to come by tomorrow morning and see how you are, and then we are going to spend some sisterly time together."
"Don't you have to work, Jane?"
"No ... I'll tell them there are family problems."
"Jane!" I chastised, wondering whether this was the law abiding, do good sister that I was used to!
"See you tomorrow!"
"Bye."
I put the phone back and then picked it up again to call the people I had meant to originally.
"Hello, could you put me through to the London Metropolitan Police please?" I asked the operator who had answered me in a surprisingly chirpy way considering it was quite late at night.
"Of course, please hold."
There was a little beeping sound and then some cheesy, crooning 'I'm-trying-to-sing-a-love-ballad' person came on. Honestly, I would rather listen to complete silence, or the wind brushing the leaves over the floor about six stories down, than listen to the type of rubbish that they usually put on these things.
"New Scotland Yard, how may I help?"
"Hi, my name is Elizabeth Bennet, and I am calling about a 'George Wickham' who I believe is being held in custody at the moment. I think I need to speak to a 'Sergeant James Leighton'."
"Ok, I'll put you right through Ms Bennet."
Thankfully The Met was too busy dealing with criminals to be concerned about putting silly songs on their phone lines.
"James Leighton here, how may I help, Ms Bennet?"
"Mr. Leighton, I am calling because I would like to press charges about a man who raped me four years ago."
Chapter 16 Posted on Wednesday, 18 May 2005
I had been sulking in bed, not wanting to get out of the little tent that I had made, after waking up from a terribly worrying dream in which I had been alone in a dark, deserted office and William Darcy had come in wearing nothing but a wet shirt. He had sat down on the side of a table, leaving a water mark and we had both watched the water dripping from his wet chest onto the floor. He had said in the sexiest voice that I had EVER heard, "Elizabeth, I want you so much." I had walked towards him and when I reached him had leaned on him and put my hand up his shirt. He had kissed me with huge passion on the lips and then we were just about to do all things unspeakable when the loud beeping of a car had woken me up. Actually, I had been truly concerned about the fact that I was having lovely dreams about a man that was so good looking that it hurt. I was also very mad with my choice of apartment i.e. right by the road where happy people would drive past early on a Thursday morning when I would just want to sleep and dream ... Perhaps if that driver hadn't beeped the horn ridiculously loudly, then William and I might have continued our relationship ... GET REAL! IT WAS A DREAM!
The letter box opened and the paper was pushed through. That was the only reason that I got up and out of my sulk. I had been concerned about what the papers would say about the day before. I braced myself to look at the Daily Mail and braced myself to read what it said about what had happened in the past few days.
Monday 20th December 2005, George Wickham Sentenced to 15 Years ... 15 years in prison is the result to the high court trial which took place yesterday. The trial only lasted three days, and the evidence was so clear that he didn't stand a chance. George Wickham was first on trial on the 5th of December for the alleged stealing of funds of over £100,000,000 from the account of the paper, The London Tribune. During this trial, it emerged that four years ago, George Wickham had had a very strong two year relationship with the editor of the paper, Elizabeth Bennet who is now twenty six.For a short period, it was thought that perhaps Wickham was innocent and that Ms. Bennet had wanted to get her revenge on him for breaking up their long relationship. However, on the 4th day of the trial when Ms Bennet took to the stand to give evidence about the reason George was fired (The defense had been very eager to make the point that he was wrongly let go, which might have led to a trial on the part of Ms Bennet and her fellow employees). It was then transpired that the end of the relationship between George and Elizabeth was because Wickham had raped her as she had been breaking off the relationship.
The trial was instantly suspended and Ms Bennet was photographed leaving the court in tears. Somehow, she was persuaded to press charges on Mr. Wickham which brought about a new series of evidence and witness collecting. Witnesses came forward, including a Mr. James Edwards, a man who lives in the same apartment area as Ms Bennet who then told the court only three days ago that he had heard George Wickham attacking Elizabeth Bennet. He was reproached for not having told the police beforehand and he replied with, "Ms Bennet didn't want to speak to the police so I didn't tell her that I knew. I was ready to tell the court, because she had made it public.
Another bit of key evidence was Ms Bennet's testimony which she bravely put on a strong face and told everyone exactly what had happened nearly four years ago. She had the sympathy of the entire court as she was made to look Wickham in the face and told them what he had done to her. It seemed so likely that she would win the case, even at this early stage that it was only adding to the belief that George Wickham was guilty when he got up from his chair and shouted, "Elizabeth, you are easy really, I know that you wanted it ... You were just a bit more reluctant than usual, but I know that they were tears of enjoyment, not sadness."
This outburst was added to the fact that in the court three weeks prior to this date, when Ms Bennet had first told the court what had happened, Mr. Wickham had shouted at her, "You utter B****H. I warned you not to say anything, Elizabeth." Combined with Mr. Wickham's own testimony during which he stated that he was 'exercising his rights as a boyfriend' and the account that Mr. Edwards, a very respectable government worker had given, it seemed likely that George Wickham would get what he deserved.
Mr. William Darcy, a member of the aristocracy, a very respected friend of royalty, was the lawyer for the prosecution and speaking after the trial, he said, "Ms Bennet, all her family and I are very pleased with the result today. It is long overdue and we are quite glad that justice has been done, in both cases. We all are very glad that this result means that Mr. Wickham cannot do the same to other young women, or to other companies that he doesn't like." George Wickham was found guilty on the counts of rape and theft.
Mr. Owen Thepale owner of The London Tribune was only too happy to make a statement and tell us his opinions on the subject, "I am pleased that this matter has been sorted out. I personally feel that justice has been done and that both the paper and the workers in the paper can feel like they can start returning to normal."
When questioned, Ms Bennet refused to say anything but the look on her face when she left the court yesterday with her family holding her and supporting her from all sides, was one of relief and a hope of being able to move along with her life. On the other side, George Wickham was hurling insults at the jury, Ms Bennet and at the prosecution which added a further year to his sentence which he is due to serve in a secure prison in Birmingham."
Well it could have been worse, I suppose. They could have totally invaded my privacy and flashed about the fact that I had had a relationship with a man who then raped me and the fact that I had kept it hidden for four years and also the fact that I was saved by a man who was constantly shouting at me for my cooking skills. Oh wait! THEY DID! I hated the press...It was too bad that I was part of the press. I sort of actually understood what it felt like to be the person who the news was about, rather than the person who was writing news about someone.
Even though it was truly embarrassing that I was saved by Mr. Edwards, I was so grateful for him telling everyone what he had heard. I sent him a little 'Thank you' card in the post which had said, "Dear Mr. Edwards, thanks very much for helping at the trial and giving evidence, you helped put away a very useless man...PS, sorry about my bad cooking!" He had been very useful for once, and although when he first said to me that he knew what had happened, I had been worried that he had heard absolutely everything, I had learnt to get over my pride and dignity and just get to the seriousness of trying to convict a genuine B*****D.
Apparently what Mr. Edwards had heard was almost everything. He heard all the banging on the door and listened to what was happening. He had written down everything and was almost going to tape it. For what it was worth, Mr. Edwards was actually a nice guy. I had been wrong about yet another person.
George had knocked on the door constantly. I had ignored him, because I knew it was him and that he was angry. I had just called him and broken up with him. I suppose that it was stupid that I was doing it over the phone, but I knew that if I did it face to face, he would probably be able to make me change my mind. G had been yelling, "Elizabeth, open up this door at once, we need to talk." "Come on, Lizzy! It's me, G...lets just sort out this whole mess now, shall we?"
It was unfortunate that I had given him a key. If he was not an irrational, occasionally idiotic man he would have remembered straight away that my key was on his set of keys, because by banging the door down, he had grabbed the attention of Mr. Edwards next door, and Mr. Edwards had then heard all of it.
George let himself into the apartment and came sauntering over towards where I was standing, by the window. I was nervous of what he would do. I had seen him yelling endlessly at his 'friend' when they hadn't 'delivered' the things that they were meant to have given him, and I had seen him punch a few people in the face. "Lizzy," he said in his charming way. I was actually moving back as he had been moving towards me and I was now stuck between him and the wall.
"What do you want, George?"
"To see you, my darling!"
"I told you that it is over, George ... Why don't you just leave me alone and get on with your life? I don't belong to you any more."
"That's where you are wrong, dear," he smirked as he said it, as if he knew the private joke and no-one else understood him. Like he was the only one who knew that something was going to happen, "You are my life, just as I am yours, and you will ALWAYS belong to me."
His voice had taken on a weird eerie turn and I was getting scared. I was shaking slightly and jumped when he put his arms on mine. "Get off me," I hissed very gently. "DON'T TOUCH ME," I said very forcedly. He was just standing there laughing in my distress. He ignored me totally and wouldn't let go. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE," I yelled.
Mr. Edwards had later told the court that that was what he had heard through the walls. He had then heard me screaming, "Leave me alone" "get off me" and then me pleading desperately, "Please George, I don't want to" and also, he had heard a huge crash of something, followed by heavy breathing, crashing of bodies against walls and shouts of, "I don't want you anymore. I don't have to do what you say, G." "You cannot control me like you have always done," and then George yelling, "Let's just see about that, shall we?"
Mr. Edwards had then said that he heard a slamming of the door, its instant lock and then somebody crying muffled tears. At the time, he assumed that it was me throwing out George and then slamming the door, locking it and then crying because of what he had said but really, what had happened was that I had made for an escape, got to the door and then George had caught me by the wrist, threw me to the floor and then slammed the door and locked it so that I couldn't get back out. He had pushed me against the wall and the muffled tears were me crying as he held a scarf over my mouth and raped me.
Chapter 17 Posted on Saturday, 21 May 2005
The following days at home passed far too slowly. My family and all the guys at the office refused to let me go into work. I had this huge sense of pity for all those women who spent the day at home and waited for their children and husbands to come home. I couldn't do that! I was bored out of my brain. Daytime TV was definitely not overrated. It was almost as bad as a date with Billy Collins on the scale of boredom and a number of times I wished I would pass into a temporary state of unconsciousness.
Speaking of that toad, he and Charlotte were apparently in the "serious" stage of their relationship. Hmm ... interesting thought ... No, not interesting, absolutely revolting thought. I mean, I am all for the personality of a man, not how he looks, but he was the most irritating person alive, maybe even more so than my mother, though that was a close call.
It was three days before Christmas and I was on my way to my parents' house. It was my twenty-seventh birthday and my parents had insisted that I come over to their house, where everyone would be assembled for the Christmas season. I had always hated the fact that my birthday was only three days before Christmas because as a child it meant that all the happy occasions occurred at the same time and I had an entire year to wait until the next period of joy.
I reluctantly drove the 60 miles to my parents' house in Longbourn, Hertfordshire, along the icy motorway full of people off home for Christmas with happy, cheery smiles on their faces, singing Christmas songs as they sped down the road at paces far too fast for such a slippery path. Yet another Ford full of chirpy under-graduates overtook me, and I cursed myself for being so depressed on my birthday and when the Christmas holiday was so near.
When I came off the motorway and began driving through the familiar streets of my youth, I saw the decorated trees, streets and houses of the little and quaint town of Longbourn. My parents had always been the 'top' residents of the small town that was almost too small to be classified as a town. My mother knew virtually every family in the area by name, age and marital status. She ran meetings for charities, meetings for the town gardens, meetings for the parish, she was the chairperson of the local WI, she was a governor at the local comprehensive and only God knows what else.
It was only down to me that my parents were even going to see each other this Christmas time. I had persuaded my Dad to sleep in the spare room of what was now my mother's house. He had only agreed because he knew that I wanted it, and because it was my birthday and it was Christmas time and that he felt we should show a display of family unity and all that sentimental stuff.
I pulled into the obscenely over decorated house. I thought about how Mum had really gone mad this year. Down the roof of the house, there were about 20 vertical strings of rope lights; there were little patterned type lights all around the windows and the front door. In the garden she had recreated the nativity scene on one side, with a stable that lit up, surrounded by sheep, oxen, Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus. On the tree that leaned over the stable she had hung four florescent angels, each with flashing halos. On the opposite side of the garden was its contemporised version with Rudolph and his other reindeer friends pulling a carriage with Santa and lots of presents inside.
Apart from the Christmas lights, the entire house was in blackness. I could see a little note on the door which I could only read thanks to the chasing bulbs that shone above the door. It said that they had gone out for a drink in the pub and told me to meet them there. I was hoping that I had left their house key on my set of keys, but due to the fact that I so rarely visited Hertfordshire, I had left it at home. I wasn't really in the mood for drinks at the local. There would be loads of pervy friends of my parents who would ask me where my boyfriend was and tell me how much I was missed in Longbourn.
I decided to walk the 900 yards to the local pub, 'The Royal Inn' (there was absolutely nothing regal about a smelly old pub with nothing but a bunch of old women and men having conversations about how terrible the youths were today and how only last week one of them had cursed at him). It was really dark even though it was only half past four and only the light on top of the pub which said 'The _oyal Inn' kept me being able to see in which general direction I should go.
For once, the local seemed really quiet. From outside I couldn't hear the usual blasting of a national football game and the very common sighs and cheers of each time a player got the ball. I couldn't hear the nattering of the old ladies or the clanking of glasses on the counter as the cheeky sods asked for another pint without actually asking. The door however was open and I went through to the main pool/bar area. As I creaked the inside door open, slowly, wondering why it was that it was dark inside, I said, "Hello?" in an I-am-very-confused way. My heart jumped up to the moon and back when I heard a huge reply of about 60 people shouting, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ELIZABETH"
The lights leaped on and I could see almost every person that I knew smiling at me. I hated surprise parties, but it was lovely to see all the people that I loved to pieces. All my sisters, including Mary were there, my parents, my Aunty Maddy and Uncle Ed, my other aunts and uncles, the Philips's and the Raymonds, my work colleagues including Charlotte (who was with Billy), Kyle and even Mr. Thepale. Jessica from the apartment was there, along with Charles Bingley and his orange sister. All those were only the ones that I could see! There were loads more people standing further back in the room whom I couldn't identify.
"Oh My God," I ... I couldn't believe it. There were balloons and banners saying "Happy Birthday" and there was a big pile of presents and cards all on one table. "Thanks a lot everyone," I tried to actually not cry. I hadn't thought that anyone would remember that it was my birthday and that my Dad and Jane would be the only ones that would know that it was. I was really touched that they had all arranged this and cared enough for me. There was a large buffet of sweet foods and even though I should have been on a diet, I walked over to where my sister Mary was and gave her a hug. She had changed a bit, and seemed to be slightly more receptive to my affections. "It has been too long, Mary."
"I know."
"You mustn't go away for so long again. We have all missed you loads."
"You're right, Lizzy. I'm not going back to Albania. I'm going to get a degree and start working here."
I smiled and told her how glad I was about that. I was going to have to do room surfing and say thanks and Happy Christmas to each person in turn. As I walked in the general direction of Charlotte and (shudder) Billy Collins, I saw a girl that I recognised from somewhere but just couldn't remember where. She was pretty, but with a look of class and intelligence. She was standing next to the bar next to a man who was turned away. I knew that derrière...I had eyed that one up before. The girl saw me and smiled and tugged on her companions arm in a motion for him to turn around.
I was staring into the eyes of William Darcy. I hadn't seen him for a few weeks and the man still confused me to no end. He was looking so sexy and gorgeous in a polo neck rather like the one that he wore when I had first met him. It was like the entire room froze and we just made eyes at each other for ages. Eventually, after I had gripped onto a slight bit of reality, I gave him a smile as close to sincere as I actually could. I have huge problems smiling at people, because I so very rarely mean it when I smile and therefore I look sarcastic. He grinned back at me and I felt this huge sense of paranoia come over me and felt my cheeks blushing.
Everyone in the room it seemed hadn't frozen, but they had been watching and throwing knowing glances at each other and smirking. Finally, I walked closer to him and said, "Hi, it's great that you could come," or something to that effect anyway; I wasn't really sure where my feet were, let alone what was coming out of my mouth. He agreed and then said, "This is my sister, Anne. I hope you don't mind her coming."
Anne Darcy! That was who it was, the girl who I had met in the park about a month beforehand. A month had changed her a lot. I knew that she must have been at least 4 months pregnant, and it was really starting show. "Hello again, Anne!"
"Again?" questioned her concerned brother.
I thought that Anne would have told him that she had met me, but since she hadn't, I guessed that she didn't want her brother knowing that she had contemplated running away for good, or that she didn't think that he loved her. Added to the fact that she was looking at me with a pleading eye, "We met at the National Youth Orchestra," I lied smoothly. "I played the clarinet and she played the cello, but because they are different sections and all, we never really met, I just knew her name."
He looked like he didn't believe me and nodded, but then after thinking about it said, "But you are 4 years older than Anne, why would you be there at the same time?"
"You can stay until you are 21, and I had the advantage of being allowed to stay with them even when I was studying at Oxford, they would send me the music and I would go to practises whenever I could."
"I didn't even know that you were musical, Elizabeth," he replied, having given in on trying to work out the impossibility of that happening.
"William!" Jane cried as she came towards our little group, "Lizzy isn't just musical, she can play virtually any instrument ever invented!"
"That is not true, Jane! I refuse to go near violins. Any instrument that sounds like cat's claws on a chalkboard is definitely wrong!"
The little group of us laughed, and even Anne ventured a shy little comment about how she disliked violins when played by beginners. "What else do you play?" She asked me after Jane had gone off to chat to someone else. "Do you really want the list?" I asked her, believing that I would bore her and her brother to death. They both nodded and I told them how I can play the clarinet, piano, saxophone, flute and the oboe.
"Wow, I thought that playing and practising one instrument was hard enough!" Anne smiled sweetly.
"I played the piano first, then the clarinet, and all the other instruments were a lot easier to learn once I could play two instruments. In fact, it gets easier as you go along!"
Much to my dislike, William was called over by Caroline to help her do something or another. Anne said to me, "Don't worry, Will doesn't like Caroline, she has fancied him since they were teenagers and he almost hates her. The only reason he is polite to her is because she is Charles's sister."
I thought that a little bit presumptuous and I think she could tell, because she added, "I'm sorry if I have offended you ... I thought ... Well, I thought that you and Will liked each other." She had thought that we were a couple or something, and then put the icing on the cake when she said, with a slightly cheeky grin on her face, "I saw him writing 'I love Elizabeth' and 'Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy' in his diary the other day."
Chapter 18 Posted on Saturday, 21 May 2005
Ok, that was a bit of a shock. William Darcy had been declaring his love for me in his diary. Me? Me, Elizabeth Bennet! Don't make me laugh! "Hah! You are a tease, Anne...That was a really good one!"
"I wasn't joking," she said with a face that totally showed the truth.
"Oh..." I really didn't know what to say!
What exactly was she implying? That William was in love with me? We had never spoken more than ten polite words consecutively to each other. How could he have developed affection for me when we argued and shouted at each other all the time? He was rude to me and I was rude back. There was nothing more to our relationship than that. Except the small fact that I thought he was the sexist man ever and that when he defended me in court he was absolutely perfect and...since the trial he hadn't really been rude to me or ... Stop it, you will not fall for William Darcy. YOU ARE NOT FALLING for William Darcy. Repeat it, repeat it and repeat it in your head.
"Let's all sing happy birthday to Lizzy," shouted out my sister, enthusiastically, which saved me having to think of a witty response to Anne's strange and worrying confession on behalf of her brother. So, they all sang happy birthday to me and fed me huge amounts of cake so I felt like a bloated octopus. I don't really know why I felt like an octopus, probably something to do with feeling like I had eight legs because I was getting slightly tipsy.
I have always disliked opening presents in front of people, especially huge crowds of my closest friends, so I got Jane to bag up all the presents and cards and I waited until after the party had finished and I was back in my old room at my parents house and I was all alone, where I could actually examine the presents and be honest!
I started with my mother's. The card said, "Gosh, darling you are getting old! (Mother slang for "Hurry up and get married") Have a lovely day, love Mum." The other cards said the same sort of thing, without the, "You are old" bit. I was relatively pleased with my presents this year. I had received no socks (sob) and no hankies! My Dad had got me the entire William Shakespeare collection, with all his plays and sonnets, which I adored. The other great presents came from Jane and Charles who got me a beautiful brown turtle neck, which Jane had managed to get to fit me perfectly. (I could never understand how she could work out which size someone would be in a certain style, I never bought clothes for people because of my lack of talent in that area) and Kyle got me "The essential book of foreign insults" which shows how to say the rudest things in almost every language.
I had almost thought that I had finished with everything, and had been about to fold up the carrier bags and bin all the papers left lying around when I saw a lonely present that had been left out. On a whim, I opened the present before the card (something which I don't normally do) and gasped out loud when I saw it. It was gorgeous. It was an elegant and adorable necklace with a beautiful sun-style pendant on it. It was made out of silver, and the rays coming off the silver sun had diamond strips inside them. The chain was quite long and it was one of those necklaces you are supposed to wear underneath your clothing.
As soon as I saw it, it was my favourite present. I picked it up, carefully as I feared I would break it, and I fastened the little clasp at the back. I looked in the mirror and could see the way that the diamonds brought out the sparkle in my eyes which I had been told many times that I had, and I had always failed to see. I sat there in front of my mirror in a sudden vain feat and stared at how pretty it was. I was so chuffed with the thoughtfulness of the gift that I forgot to find out who it was from. It wasn't until I saw the envelope sitting on the bed that I thought to read the card.
Elizabeth, many happy returns on your birthday. I hope you have a brilliant day, full of joy. Love from William.
Will? He had got me this lovely present? Maybe his sister had chosen it ... And yet; it didn't have the air of being chosen by a woman, strange as that sounds. Wait a minute, did he say LOVE?
In a desperate and bizarre attempt on my behalf, to reread his message and see if he had put "love from Will" or just "from Will" or whatever, I ripped open the envelope which I had put the card back in and I saw a piece of white paper that had been put inside the envelope which I had missed previously. I opened it up. It was a message that had been written by Will and he had obviously written it quickly because the ink had printed on the opposite side of the fold.
Dear Elizabeth,I find that I really must talk to you. It is quite a serious matter, which I suppose you may not find quite as serious as I do. For me, it is a matter of the most important thing in my life and I was wondering if you would be able to meet me at ten thirty by the swings at Longbourn Park. If for some reason you cannot or don't want to make it, please call me (Charles has my number).
I hope to see you there. I would wait all night for you, Elizabeth.
Will
He would wait all night for me? Oh God ... Please don't say it was going to be a proposal. I don't think that I could take that. By the way that he had worded it, it definitely sounded like he was going to propose. You know, the old, "there has been a very important question I have been meaning to ask you". He wouldn't though. No sane man would propose to woman who he proclaimed he hated even if he did love her and had bought her a beautiful present for her birthday.
As I sneaked out of my room at quarter past ten and crept slowly down the stairs, I didn't realise that my family were still up. Well, my mother wasn't, but my father and my sisters all saw me creeping towards the front door and Jane asked me where I was going.
"Just going to get some fresh air, Jane ... I'll only be out for a bit and I've got my phone." Got my phone? I sounded like a teenager pleading with her mother to let her stay out past her curfew. I'll be OK, I promise and anyway, I have my phone with me, Mum! So, despite all the curious and strange looks I received from my family, I found myself out on the streets of Longbourn at almost half past ten on my twenty seventh birthday, three days before Christmas looking for the man that I was 'sure' I didn't fancy the pants off, in the freezing cold weather. I was starting to wish that I had worn more than my new turtle neck and a pair of jeans. It may have been made of wool, but I was sure that it was minus thirty degrees centigrade outside.
I could see his figure before he could see me approaching. He was sitting on a bench and had cleverly worn a big coat. He seemed nervous even from this distance and looked actually scared of what he was going to say. I was scared, but I was anxious, like I wanted to know what had been going through his mind all this time. He kept on checking his watch in a worried way and then he got up and began pacing.
The sound of his pacing meant that he didn't hear me come into the park and stand by the gate even though it was only twenty metres from where he was. I softly said his name. He looked up, shocked, stopped pacing around in circles and said to me, "Elizabeth, you came."
"I did," I replied, trying not to state the obvious like he had just done.
"I didn't wish you happy birthday before, so ... Happy birthday!"
"Thanks," I responded, feeling a sense of imminent awkward pauses in conversation looming in the near distance.
"Will you come and sit over here with me?" he asked as he gestured to the bench that he had been sitting on before. I agreed and walked over towards him and sat down.
I sat, hating the silence that had come over us once more whilst he stared into the void that was the Longbourn Forest (as we called it when we were kids. Obviously, there was little more than a few trees here and there). He turned and looked at me and saw me shivering and being the gentleman that he was, said, "Lizzy, you are freezing. Here, have my coat." He took off his coat and wrapped it around me. I protested and argued that he would be very cold and I couldn't let him and all that and he ignored me with "Nonsense."
Not only was the coat warm because it was a coat, but the heat from his body was still there, mixed in with the Darcy smell of men's fragrance of Lynx. It momentarily made me lose all hearing as Will started muttering and mumbling to himself. I woke up when I heard...
"Elizabeth, I must tell you how I truly feel about you. If you will allow me to do so?" I nodded, words failing me completely. "I know that you do not like me. I have known that since we first met each other, but I have almost always felt a strong and passionate admiration and regard for you, which recently turned into a total love for you.
"When we first met, I was in a foul mood. Business matters were driving me up the wall, and Charles' constant nagging about meeting the new person that he had fallen in love with was making me feel boring and condemned to lonely bachelorhood. When he started saying that he thought you and I would get it together, I was annoyed, because he had presumed that because he was going out with your sister that I would go out with you. Also, I hardly knew you and I am sometimes ... very shy. Anyway, I was really sorry for what I said as soon as I had said it, but I was too proud and dignified to apologise.
"As I kept meeting you around, I couldn't deny the total attraction that I felt for you. You are the most beautiful woman that I have ever met, and I was scared of the feelings that I was having for you. I would take walks near your end of London just on the off chance that I might see you, and it petrified me, because I have never felt like that about anyone before. My answer then was to pretend to be rude and like I didn't care about you, so that you wouldn't guess that I liked you.
"I also knew that you hated me. I seemed to think that because of that, I would be able to get over you and try to forget about you and all the dreams that I was having about you. But it wouldn't work. The more that you and I argued and shouted at each other, the more that I was enamoured with you. Knowing that you hated me only made me think... 'I have to keep this to myself.' I knew that I was in love with you when I found out that you and George had gone out. That made me angry, that you had loved him, and I know that I overreacted when I confronted you about it, but it was really because I couldn't bare the fact that you had loved him, but that you didn't even like me a tiny bit."